Anarchy Machines
by L'Arc en Ciel Gris
Summary: An accident years before Hogwarts leaves Harry with a permanent disability, which he comes to terms with before starting school. But when given the choice, he isn't sure if he would want it healed. An exploration of disability at Hogwarts, and how that would affect the Wizarding World's perception of the Boy Who Lived. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Anarchy Machines – Chapter 1**

As much as Petunia tried, she found she couldn't resent the last living link to her biological family. She'd started off bemoaning her sister's existence when the bundle of blankets and baby was left on her doorstep, but after a while, she had to admit the kid grew on her. The only thing that concerned her was the magic. Harry was obviously going to be a very gifted wizard, she could see that even at fifteen months, but that led to so much fear. Over the years, she'd heard snippets of conversation regarding the wizarding war. Surely if Harry was a part of their world, he would end up being killed?

It was with a grim determination that she decided Vernon and herself would try to quash the magic.

They were always careful to favour Dudley over Harry. Their nephew got the smallest bedroom in the house, significantly more chores, and only the most cursory of praises was offered when he did well at school, but it always hurt Petunia to be treating him that way.

Despite being reassured that no one from the wizarding world would contact her, she received many owls from well-wishers. There was one that she was particularly warmed by, however. A fellow mother, who despite having very little money, took the time to knit Harry several thick blankets, scarves and jumpers as he grew up.

Petunia had deliberated for days about what she could possibly send in return that wouldn't be seen as patronising. In the end she even consulted the other mums from the boy's nursery group. Thankfully, one of them was able to suggest something. And soon enough, Molly received a huge hamper full of toys and family friendly board games. From that moment on, Petunia had what she could only describe as the most sympathetic confident she could've ever dreamed of having.

As Harry and Dudley progressed into primary school, Petunia noticed their interests changing a little. Dudley liked computer games, whereas Harry preferred to be outside, playing football with the neighbourhood boys. However, despite these differences there were still things they did together. The pair went swimming every two weeks with one of their friends from school, and they both joined a judo club in year three.

Oh, if Petunia had only known what kind of heartache the club would go on to cause them, she definitely would've put her foot down and refused to let the boys join. Unfortunately, they'd both seen _The Karate Kid_ , and thought it was immensely cool!

It was one fateful Wednesday night on which the accident occurred.

For Harry, Wednesdays were his favourite, hands down. School was a breeze, given that it was both PE and art day, he and Dudley sometimes got McDonald's for tea, but more often than not had beans on toast before being whisked back to the school for judo club. Harry loved judo. He was good at it too. And so was Dudley! Nearly every day after school -and after homework- they'd go off up to the guest bedroom and pull the king-size mattress off the bed to practice their moves until they were utterly perfect. Aunt Petunia didn't mind, as long as they cleared up afterwards, and nothing was broken.

That evening everything seemed to be going swimmingly, Harry and Dudley were virtually owning anyone they paired up with, and having a blast while doing it.

That was, until their instructor chose Harry to demonstrate a particular throw.

The kid was a few years older, a bit bigger, and a bit heavier set, but Harry didn't think that was a problem as he twisted into the throw. That was, until it went wrong of course. The other kid was new to judo, and was scared of getting hurt, despite the padded gym mats on the floor. Although he was supposed to just let Harry throw him, the other boy panicked and flailed, and _somehow_ swept Harry's weight bearing leg from under him.

Everything seemed fine at first, no harm done, but then microseconds after impact, the pain reared its ugly head.

There was a flurry of activity around Harry, as he cried out in agony, clutching at his battered leg. That move only made it worse though! Moments later the instructor was by his side, telling him to relax, to not move. That was easier said than done though!

Dimly, it registered that everyone was trying to distract him from looking at his leg. What, was there a lot of blood or something? Curiosity got the better of Harry as he tried to peer around the mountain of a man that was the sensei. Big mistake. Looking at it only made it hurt more. His leg was bent in the wrong way. Fearfully, he screamed, even as everyone was trying to keep him calm.

It took just minutes for an ambulance crew to arrive. Oh, Harry was so not their friend! Before they could take him to the hospital they had to straighten out his leg.

It was probably a good thing that all of the other kids had been ushered into a different part of the school, because those screams would've haunted them for sure.

A tense few minutes later, and he was on a stretcher, being wheeled into an ambulance.

From that point on it was a blur really.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon met the ambulance at the hospital, having dropped Dudley off to be looked after by someone else.

Having doctors poking around his leg was about as uncomfortable as it got, but thankfully he was allowed some medicine before too long. At long last, his pained cries subsided to miserable hiccups as the adults talked.

A short time after being admitted, Harry was being wheeled off for the first surgery.

When he woke up, he was surrounded by people. Some of whom he'd never seen before. Aunt Petunia was there, with a redheaded woman, and a boy and girl with the same hair colour. What they were saying didn't register in the slightest, he was too groggy from the anaesthetic, but he didn't miss the fact the woman presented him with a woollen blanket, like the ones he had at home, and suddenly he knew who it was. Quietly, he burbled something that may have been a thank you, before falling asleep again.

The cycle of wakefulness and sleep continued for a day or two, before Harry finally came to properly.

It took a few minutes before he became aware that his leg wouldn't move, as he tried to make himself more comfortable. In an almost blind panic, he threw off the blanket, and stared, expecting to see they'd chopped it off!

He sighed in relief as he say that his leg was just heavily bandaged. There were piles of cards and sweets on the bedside table, along with some fresh fruit. Harry then noticed that Aunt Petunia was there, rushing over to him.

Not long after, the doctors came too, and propped him up so that he could eat. And when they mentioned food, Harry was ravenous, even if he felt sick at the same time. They assured him that it would pass, and that he would be fine.

As much as the doctors assured him it'd all be fine, it really wasn't. Set back after set back occurred. An infection threatened the function of that leg further, and kept Harry in the hospital for far longer than anyone expected, requiring more surgery to deal with the necrotic tissue.

Eventually though, he was allowed to go home. But the problems didn't stop there! He was too weak to climb the stairs to get to his bedroom, so he had to sleep in the living room.

Harry quickly grew fed up of being an invalid.

It took some time, but eventually it looked like there was a light at the end of the tunnel, the brace could come off and he could be a normal kid again, but of course nothing ever went right.

Although Dudley really tried to be careful, he was bigger than Harry, and clumsy, and sent Harry flying more than a few times. School was suddenly a million times harder too, since he had to deal with his leg on top of lessons.

But no, a few bad falls really did set him back even further. Everything in that leg got weak, until he could no longer put any weight at all on it.

A slip on an icy street and a broken ankle certainly didn't help matters. Then, not only did he have a brace on his knee, but a cast on his ankle. At the very least Harry was used to getting around on crutches, and could be pretty speedy when he wanted to be.

But after that incident, things started to look better. Harry was still weak, and the doctors weren't sure if they could help him beyond supporting his damaged leg, and giving him crutches. Physical therapy helped. It hurt, but it helped.

At the very least, he could get to his own bedroom without help, and use the bathroom on his own. Those were two massive positives. After a while, Harry got used to the crutches and the brace. They were just a fact of his life now. When it got cold, he ached, and sometimes his knee swelled up, but that he could live with.

Eventually, life was pretty much normal. He was nervous about going to secondary school, especially with his leg the way it was, but Aunt Petunia assured him that everything would be alright.

On Dudley's eleventh birthday, they were going to the zoo, and Harry was really excited. Not just because they were going to the zoo, but because they were going to meet up with Mrs Weasley, Ron and Ginny while they were there. Dudley's loud shouts of "Wake up! We're going to the zoo!" Made Harry virtually tingle with excitement and anticipation.

Although he couldn't run around like Dudley, Ron and Ginny, he still enjoyed the day. Harry had to take frequent breaks, and Molly kept making sure he drank lots of water, but it was easily the best day he'd had since before the accident.

Although all too soon, it was time to go home. Sadly, Harry and Dudley bade farewell to the Weasleys, and climbed back into the car to head home.

It wasn't long after that day trip, that something unusual happened.

There was a letter for Harry, in the post. The address was written in emerald ink, and was weirdly specific about his living situation. Like, how did this person know he slept in the smallest bedroom? Aunt Petunia took the letter off him before he could read it, and told him that it would all be explained later, so not to worry about it. Not worry? Yeah right.

But, just a few weeks later, it really was explained. At around ten in the morning, shortly after Harry turned eleven, a man dressed in all black knocked on the door. He was lanky, and had black hair. The man introduced himself as a teacher at Harry's new school. What new school? Stonewall High? No, the man had laughed, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry almost fainted from shock.

He was a _what_?

And that was _that_!

"So what do you teach?" Harry asked curiously as they made their way through the crowded street known as Diagon Alley. Apparently this place was just randomly hidden in the middle of London? Well, Harry was still having a bit of trouble believing it all, but he was trying his best. Also trying his best to keep up with Professor Snape, because the man moved way too fast, and had to keep checking himself.

"Potions. A fascinating subject. Precision and accuracy are absolutely paramount, as well as an in-depth knowledge of how each ingredient might react with another, among other things," Professor Snape explained brusquely as they walked toward the bank.

"Do you think I'll be good at it?" Harry went on to ask, extremely curious. If Potions was like cooking, and didn't require much magic, surely he'd be okay at that right? He wouldn't make a fool of himself.

"I don't see why not. It requires dedication, willingness to work hard, be out of bed at all hours of the night to make the smallest adjustments and additions. Your mother was gifted when it came to potions, in fact," Snape had supplied, almost as though he wanted to put Harry off. Wait, his mother was good at it?

From that very moment on, it was like Harry was obsessed. He wanted to absorb every detail about the subject that he could. Why was his mother so fond of it? What was his mother like, even? The professor seemed hesitant to respond at first, but soon enough he wouldn't shut up, which was kind of refreshing, because up until that point he'd just sort of glared at everything. But talking about potions definitely made him happy. And Harry noted that when he was happy, Snape was much easier to be around.

The talk proved so useful though. Once he'd got his money from the bank, they started shopping for his equipment. Snape supplied all sorts of helpful tips about how to chose potion ingredients, what type of knives would be best, and yet more.

Wand shopping was absolutely exhausting, and it took forever! Harry went through at least twenty before the golden sparks shot out of the one he'd ended up with. What was the deal with that anyway? Snape had the answer for that too. The wood and the core were good for different types of magic, and certain people just naturally favoured different areas of magic.

When they passed a group of kids ogling something in a window, Harry had to look himself. A broomstick? Did witches and wizards really ride broomsticks? Snape to the rescue once again, informed him that it was mostly for recreation, and that there were other modes of transport available nowadays. Quidditch sounded like something Harry might've been interested in, had he not been so injured, so it was with a heavy heart that he tore himself away from the Nimbus 2000, and carried on shopping.

When it came to buying books, Professor Snape once again proved to be a useful asset, offering up advice on some additional books, to help get him started, instead of just the basic reading list.

Most thankfully, Madam Malkin took pity on him when he hobbled into her store, and once she'd finished measuring up the two that were already there, she closed up, so that she could focus solely on getting Harry seen to as fast as humanly possible.

After several long hours, the only thing left to get was an animal companion of some kind. The Magical Menagerie should've been called the Magical Cacophony, since it was so loud in there, but Harry still looked in baskets and cages looking for the perfect pet. Snape assured him that it wasn't essential, but it was nice to have one. He'd never owned a pet before, and he was a bit worried about looking after one with his bad leg, but he decided he'd do it. At the very least it'd give him some responsibility. It took some real searching, but Harry found the perfect little kitten. She was a grey and white tabby, who looked like she was wearing little socks. That was the one. Yup. Without hesitation, Harry christened his new kitten Moonstone, or Moon for short.

And that was it -school shopping done, and it was time to go home again.

Harry was buzzing by the time he got back to Privet Drive. He excitedly told Aunt Petunia all about it, who admitted she remembered a similar experience with her sister. Harry was excited to take Moon up into his bedroom, and make her a bed, and play with her. And he was also looking forward to reading his textbooks. Which was a really weird thing to think! Harry had never struggled in school, but he never really had to try hard either, he just did okay.

That evening, when Moon jumped up into bed with him, and curled up between his pillow and the wall, Harry's heart melted.

The rest of August passed quickly, and September 1st couldn't come soon enough! It was with excitement and intense trepidation that he followed Aunt Petunia onto the platform to meet up with the Weasleys. Molly helped him through the ticket barrier, and when he caught his first glimpse of the Hogwarts Express, he was amazed. When he asked about it, Percy gave him a brief history of the biggest concealment charm ever.

Once in a compartment, Harry pulled Moon out of her basket, and laid her in his lap, so that he could start reading, crutches propped up aganist the window, and his leg stretched out to the seat in front of him.

 **Okay, so lets be real here, I hate the portrayal of the Dursleys. I used to think it was fine, but now that I'm older it makes me super uncomfortable, so they're decent human beings okay?**

 **Anyways, that aside, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Anarchy Machines – Chapter 2**

Harry didn't take long to make himself comfortable, and neither did Moon. While he'd initially propped his leg up on the seat directly opposite, he'd found that hurt after just a few minutes, and swung around so that his leg was fully supported by the seat on his side of the compartment. Sure, it meant that less people would be able to sit in there with him, but honestly he couldn't find the inclination to care just then. Soon after he made himself comfy, Moon hopped up and settled on his legs, her body on the normal one, and her head resting on the brace. It didn't hurt him when she did that, so he allowed it, and sometimes her body heat was even soothing.

Not long after, a few minutes after the train pulled out of the station, Ron slid the door to the compartment open and flopped in the seat opposite Harry, though not before chucking Harry's crutches up into the overhead so they were out of the way. "Alright?" He asked, gaze flicking between Harry's leg and face.

"Yeah," Harry responded, nodding as he looked up at his freckly friend. "Bit stiff from sitting in the car for so long this morning, so I'll know about that tomorrow, but for now I'm good."

Ron made a small noise of agreement, and then turned to look out the window. There wasn't much else to say about it really. The concept of being permanently injured seemingly didn't compute with those in the wizarding world, but Harry was grateful that the other boy was at least making an effort. Although he wanted to chat, Harry sensed that Ron was a little uncomfortable without the buffer of his siblings and parents, so Harry left him to it, and started reading a book. Shortly after, Ron followed suit and started perusing a Chudley Cannons fact file. Reading kept his head down, and the longer it took for people to realise that he was Harry Potter, the better. Everyone was going to figure out sooner or later, but a little peace and quiet before that happened wouldn't go amiss. The last thing he needed just then was half a million people ogling him like he was a zoo exhibit. Oh, he was well aware that it was going to happen, but a few extra hours peace? That was a comforting idea. All was quiet, for a decent amount of time.

That was, until the compartment door slid open once again, and a girl peered in. She was small, and had a mane of brown curls, and looked rather annoyed as she took in the scene.

"Shouldn't you be a little more considerate of the other passengers?" She asked Harry, her voice thick with derision and haughtiness. Well. That girl was certainly precocious, and Harry wasn't entirely sure if he liked her.

Harry merely blinked several times at the girl. Who the heck did she think he was? But, instead of responding verbally, he just lifted the kitten off his leg, and pointed to the brace. Moon glared and chirped sleepily, obviously annoyed that she'd been disturbed like that.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry!" The girl exclaimed as she entered the compartment and sat down, looking stricken. "I didn't realise! I just thought you were being like the other kids further down... I'm Hermione, by the way."

Although the situation really wasn't that funny, Harry laughed, and shook his head. It was better to make light and forgive than to be bitter and hate the girl for an honest mistake. "It's fine," he assured with a small wave of his hand. "I'm Harry," he offered conversationally. Was he annoyed? A little, but at the very least Hermione seemed genuinely apologetic.

With that, Ron introduced himself, and the trio descended into an awkward silence. Harry could see that Hermione was itching to ask a dozen and one questions, but refrained out of politeness. Harry was thankful for small mercies.

As the train progressed on its journey, Harry grew more and more nervous. He was all too aware that he was not what the wizarding world was expecting, that was for sure. Ron seemed to sense his disquiet, but couldn't think of anything reassuring to say, so stayed silent.

The remainder of the trip passed in much the same way. Thankfully none of the students passing by their carriage on the way to the toilet recognised Harry. That was a good sign. Wouldn't stay secret for long, but at the least for the moment.

Once they arrived at Hogsmeade Station, and hopped off the train, Harry was surprised by the sheer size of the man waiting for them. By his side was a stern looking woman. They appeared to be searching for someone in particular. And that someone in particular was probably Harry, he speculated dryly. "Ah, Mr Potter," the strict looking witch exclaimed when she saw him, confirming his sneaking suspicion.

"First years over 'ere please," the huge man bellowed.

Warily, Harry broke away from the safety of the crowd, and hobbled off toward the one that had called his name specifically.

"Good evening, Mr Potter," she greeted with an almost imperceptible smile. She motioned for him to follow, and he did so with a certain amount of hesitation. "I'm Professor McGonagall. First years usually cross the lake via boat, however Professor Snape suspected that would be uncomfortable for you, so I came to escort you via carriage," she explained as they came to said carriage.

"Oh. I see," Harry mumbled. He had no idea what to expect going forward.

He glanced at the carriage blankly, but then sighed, resigning himself to an undignified clamber aboard the vehicle. He passed his crutches to McGonagall, and tottered precariously, before hauling himself up with a grunt.

"Severus said you were fairly able, good upper body strength. You've been using crutches for some time, correct?"

Harry huffed, blushing somewhat, though settled down as the Professor hopped up with more ease than he had. That stung a little, but he pushed it aside. Secretly, he was pleased that the Potions Master had been impressed.

"Yeah. Just over four years now," he told her as the carriage began moving by itself.

"Now. I have something very important to discuss with you. Our matron -Madam Pomfrey- is an exceptionally skilled healer, and may well be able to repair the damage in your leg. Is that something you would want?" Although she seemed strict, Harry could tell that McGonagall cared about the students of Hogwarts, and only wanted them to be safe and happy.

"No," he answered abruptly, surprising even himself. However, there was a clear determination in his voice. "Apart from flying, I should be a relatively normal student, right?"

It was clearly not the answer McGonagall was expecting, but she nodded regardless. "I should think so."

"Okay. My answer is no. I'm okay like this. I worked hard to get here. Months of daily stretching that was horribly painful, and multiple operations. If I'm healed now, all of that would've been for nothing. The doctors were happy for me to put treatment on hold, if I was. And I am. They said there was other stuff they could try in the future if I need more mobility. So, maybe I would ask later. But right now I'm fine," Harry explained with a surprising amount of passion.

"Very well," McGonagall responded after a moment of consideration. "You may have some that challenge your decision, they might not understand your point of view," she warned lightly.

"This is who I am. This is how I expected to spend my secondary school years. This is my decision, not theirs. I may be _Harry Potter_ , but I'm still a person, a normal person, dealing with normal problems," he said fiercely, crossing his arms in a bit of a huff.

McGonagall chuckled softly, and then fell silent, seemingly placated.

Just a few minutes later, they were pulling up outside the front doors of the castle. Getting down from the carriage was actually harder than getting on, and he did have to ask for a little extra help. A passing seventh year offered a hand before McGonagall could do anything, and Harry was on terra firma before too long. He thanked the older boy, and orientated himself on his crutches before following McGonagall into the Entrance Hall.

"Oh, hello Severus," McGonagall said, sounding surprised as she looked at her colleague. "Wasn't expecting you to be out here." Despite her words, she really didn't seem that surprised, as she glanced to the Potions Master's companion -a frail looking man with sandy blond hair.

"Erik's nervous," Snape replied curtly, and went back to trying to coerce the other into the Great Hall. "Come on, it's okay," he said softly, clearly trying to be supportive.

Harry tried not to listen, because the conversation seemed intimate in some way. Eventually, the quiet argument stopped, when Snape put his arm around Erik's shoulders and led him into the Great Hall, despite his meagre protest.

"Well then," McGonagall said, but she didn't seem annoyed. If anything, Harry would've said amused. "If you just come through here," she said, and led him into a small room just off to the side of the Great Hall. "I need to get the other first years. Are you going to be alright standing?"

"Professor, I'm fine," Harry assured, smiling as he tried not to be a smart-ass and point out that was the point of having crutches.

Around five minutes later, the rest of Harry's year group shuffled into the room, and many of them were staring at him with interest. Of course they were. By that point they all knew who he was.

McGonagall made her way to the front of the group, and addressed them. "Good evening first years. I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, and Head of Gryffindor House. In a few minutes I will take you into the Great Hall to be Sorted," she began, and then went on to explain the traits and names of all of the Houses. Harry partially zoned out, purely because he was so nervous, but also because he could tell that some of the other kids were trying to sneak glances at him. "I will be back shortly,"

As soon as she was gone, the chatter started. Many of them were speculating about which House they were going to be in, but there were whispers about Harry, that was for sure. Ron soon enough fought through the throng of students to stand beside him. "You alright?" He asked, concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry promised with a grin.

"So, it's true then. Harry Potter is here at Hogwarts, and is a pathetic cripple. _The Boy Who Was Lame_ ," a male voice sneered as he shoved his way past many other students.

Harry stared at the boy, his pale, pointed features, and platinum blond hair that was slicked back neatly. Well. That was somewhat painful, he decided. But outwardly, he laughed. "Oh that's a good one, I hadn't heard that one before!" He chuckled.

The blond boy floundered, having clearly expected Harry to get angry. There was no point giving him the satisfaction of getting under Harry's skin, he decided grimly.

Before the boy could try something else, McGonagall returned, and led the group out of the side room and into the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was impressive, Harry decided in just a tiny amount of awe. Behind him, Harry heard Hermione explaining to someone exactly how the enchanted ceiling worked. Whatever it was, it was beyond amazing.

Once they reached the staff table, Harry spied Snape and Erik, and Quirrell, who he'd met in Diagon Alley. Snape was rubbing Erik's shoulder soothingly, while other members of staff tried not to stare. And many students were talking about it too. Apparently Snape did not have the best reputation, which shocked Harry, since the man had been reasonable toward him while he'd shopped a few months ago. He tried not to pay attention to the whispers about him though. At least no one seemed to realise, since no one beside the other first years had been on the platform when McGonagall called his name out. McGonagall herself, swept in from a door behind the staff table, carrying a three-legged stool and a hat. Harry was most unamused. What were they supposed to do with that grubby old thing? Pull a rabbit out of it?

Before their very eyes, McGonagall placed the stool down, and the hat atop it. It sat there, looking quite unimpressive for almost a whole minute. The rest of the students fell silent, sensing that something was about to happen. And then, a tear opened up near the rim of the hat, forming a mouth. Never in Harry's wildest dreams had he expected a hat to start singing at them, but sure enough that was exactly what it did.

Once the song was over, McGonagall pulled a scroll from the depths of her robes, and addressed the first years. "Now, when I call your name, you will sit on the stool, I will place the Sorting Hat onto your head, and you will be Sorted," she spoke clearly. This was clearly a practiced speech.

Harry watched all the kids before him with interest. He learned that the boy that started picking on him was called Draco, and was Sorted into Slytherin almost before the hat touched his head. The first Gryffindor was a girl called Lavender Brown. Harry had no idea where he'd end up, he just hoped it wasn't Slytherin. Although he knew Snape was alright, the boy that had taken an instant dislike to Harry was in that House. Inevitably, his name was called out, and he hobbled up to the stool. That was when hushed whispers erupted from the student body once again. Harry Potter. That weird one who couldn't walk. Yup. That was him alright, he thought disdainfully as the hat was placed on his head. There was a minute or two of deliberation, before the hat yelled out; "Gryffindor!"

Harry wasn't actually that surprised. Maybe the hat knew about the conversation he'd just had with McGonagall. What had surprised him the most was the suggestion that he would've done well in Slytherin. Really? He was thoughtful as he made his way toward Fred and George, since he recognised them. They helped him over the bench, and then stashed his crutches under the table. The rest of the sorting was pretty uneventful. Interesting, but much the same as it had been up until the point he'd been called up. Ron soon enough sat opposite Harry and looking relieved. Privately, Harry reckoned he'd have to try and sit at the end of the table from now on, so that he could prop his crutches up and not have them be a trip hazard. The last thing he needed was someone's face having an abrupt introduction to the stone floor.

As the Sorting came to a close, Dumbledore stood up, and beamed at the student body. "Well, it is a great pleasure to see so many bright and eager faces with us this year. I have a few notices to give before we begin the feast, since I know no one will pay attention with full bellies. Firstly, the Third Floor corridor on the right hand side is strictly out of bounds for the forseeable future. Mr Filch would like to remind everyone of the extensive list of banned items, which can be found in his office. And lastly, you may notice some individuals this year, who are a little different. I should think that the Professors would be happy to answer any questions you may have on the topic, so please do not harass these individuals for answers, and remember that not everyone is cut from the same mould. If we all were, it would be a very boring world indeed. And now; let the feast begin!"

Harry had most definitely noticed the way Erik and Snape stiffened when Dumbledore spoke of differences and acceptance. Well, that was interesting. But, before anyone could really speculate what he could mean by that, the feast magically appeared on the plates before them. Food was a natural distraction, though Harry remained nervous about what was to come.

 **Another chapter done. I'm really enjoying writing fanfiction again, I'd given it a wide berth for a long time, but this is very therapeutic, since I've been wanting to tell several stories for a long time.**

 **Severus and Erik are a couple, in case I wasn't clear enough, but I doubt that was a problem. And they are just adorable. The rating of this story will go up as time goes on, but for now it will remain K+, just be aware that I am a M/M writer, predominantly.**


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